Tuesday Morning
by DearSweetPapercut
Summary: "Land, oceans, thousands of miles between them but somehow their hearts were still in tune, playing a sorrowful melody of want."


Well... I got bored and this took forever to write! Enjoy ;)

Review- let me know what you think

**Tuesday Morning **

**(Part One)**

The flames flickered against her skin, painting pictures of the night as the dim lights did nothing to keep the real darkness away. The smell of cigarettes and red wine surrounded her in a cloud of self doubt as words echoed in silence as reminders and representations of old ghosts. The feeling of the broken spine felt like home, the texture of the water damaged paper and the sight of bleeding ink just imperfect flaws; Othello.

The pages thickened by a photograph she had taken a year ago to the day, a book mark in more ways than one. A prompt of her place in a tragedy and the memento of a place she had longed to be many moons ago.

Her fingertips dusted across the image as of touch might memorise the curves of the morning light as it washed across his skin; her shadow upon his chest, his sleeping form tangled amongst the sheets, his hair golden in the sun. And on the back, nothing appeared but the words _'Tuesday Morning'_. Nothing more was needed.

They had walked in silence across the strip and his eyes were focused on the lights content with just being. It had left her in awe. The way his jaw had set yet his eyes never seemed to stop. He had taken her hand to stop her from being lost and in that moment she knew that she didn't want anything more for him to keep her like the token of another war.

But their battles had ended in that bed and they had walked away both facing defeat.

Now she had reached stalemate- a sense of bereavement over something that should never had been.

She would lie awake at night listening to the sound of her husband's breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat wishing she was somewhere else. She could remember the way he had held her close, the way his warmth had closed around her protecting her from the sadness that encroached on her sub-conscious. She could still feel his lips on hers; she could still taste his skin and remember the way his fingertips had brushed across hers at a deliciously slow pace.

That one night had changed her. The one encounter had shaken to the core everything she had believed and had ever wanted to believe.

And now as she sat in a grand house alone in Paris she wondered if she had been wrong to think that with time it would all mean less. That perhaps that one hit of lust would be enough to last her a life time. Oh how wrong she had been. This one photo not enough to suppress all of her desires and all of those wants that never seemed to get old.

The red wine tasted bitter on her tongue as her cigarette burnt out in the ash tray her heart like a weight in the centre of her chest sinking and anchoring her to the present. Tears stung her eyes as she waited for it all to be gone.

Sara wondered if he remembered their Tuesday morning in the way she did.

She would never know just how much he did- how those lingering moments in the Las Vegan light as they had kissed goodbye haunted his every memory; how with every footstep he would recall the way they had walked together, with every breath he would be reminded of her sleeping form resting across his chest.

Greg had tried to fight the pull he felt to her. She was thousands of miles away and she had moved on and yet he had spent the past year haunted by the memories of their night together. It was both the most breathtaking, heartbreaking memory he had. But the fight had been lost.

The final call had been made for the flight and yet somehow he could not motivate his legs to move. Perhaps it was fear that was stopping him; knowing that there was a chance she'd break his heart all over again and tell him to just walk away.

It was now or never.

Could he really just give up on everything and admit that he had lost the only women he had ever honestly loved because he hadn't fought for her. And with those thoughts inspiring the burning in his chest he made his way to board.

He didn't understand how after one night his bed had started to feel so empty, how after one night his whole existence had started to seem so lonely. But he would go to bed every night wishing he had the sound of her breathing lulling him to sleep and he would wake wanting the warmth of her form beside him.

Land, oceans, thousands of miles between them but somehow their hearts were still in tune, playing a sorrowful melody of want.

**(Part Two)**

The cool night air made him shiver as she stood in the door way watching him without a word on her lips. Her thoughts were running at a million miles per hour and for some reason she couldn't slow down as she stood perfectly still wondering if her conscience had chosen to bring to life delusions.

"I...I think I'm in love with you" The words appeared in the air and lingered like rainfall.

"I've been drinking...I haven't slept in a while... I haven't eaten either..." She rationalised out loud wondering if she could convince herself to stop thinking he was there.

"I can't stop thinking about you. Ever since that night... you just left but... We were so good together, we can't just leave it there... I can't just let you go." He confessed stepping towards her.

"Perhaps I'm asleep..." Sara mused stepping away from him.

"Sara...you're not asleep" Greg shook his head.

"Then what are you doing here?" The question broke his heart in an instant. He had imagined this moment in so many ways but never once had he thought that she would believe his intentions to be unclear.

"I don't think I've slept at all since you left..." he confessed.

"Greg... But he'll be home soon...He'll want dinner, and...sex" She shook her head, glancing at her watch nervously.

"Sara, just listen to me..." But his words seemed to be falling on deaf ears as he watched her become more disorientated.

"Where are you going to be staying, where can I find you?" Sara asked finding a notepad and pen looking up at him wide eyed.

"I'm not staying..." Greg shook his head. "I'm going to go home.

"Don't...Don't go without me" She pleaded with him. "Please just wait for me"

"I've been waiting for you since the minute I met you... this is it Sara. It's now or never... Your heart doesn't belong to him anymore...its mine. You left it with me. You know this..."

"I know...I know I did but how can I just walk away?" She shook her head at the thought of just walking out the door now and never coming back.

"Would he even notice? Do you think he'd miss the way you mumble in your sleep or the way you always smell of raspberries? Do you think that he'd have memorised how your skin felt under his fingers or the way you smile every time you smell fresh coffee? Do you think he would fly halfway across the world just to tell you how much he loved you?" Greg paused running his tongue over his lips. "Because I do...I know your favourite song, that Thursday's your favourite day of the week, and that you love gardenias...How much you love Othello"

"I need one thing" Sara whispered turning and moving away from him leaving him alone in the hall way returning with the book that had kept her secret.

**The End **


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